About Dang Time!
by HDorothy
Summary: During Jack's farewell party from the SGC, Jack pops THE QUESTION but Carter’s too dense and afraid to answer. Will he give her a second chance?


Title: About Dang Time  
Author: HailDorothy  
Category: Angst/Romance  
Warning: Usual SG-1 language  
Season: between 8 & 9  
Spoilers: 807 Affinity 815 Threads, 816 Mobius  
Couple: S/J of course  
Rating: K+  
Summary: Jack's popped the question but Carter's too dense to answer.

Disclaimer: All publicity recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Copyright: The original characters, situations, and story are the property of said author, HailDorothy © 2007

Beta thanks Carol Sue for your generous editing and input. To Almighty God, You gave me the gift of the bards. I'm forever grateful!

Feed me Seymour!

00000

"Time waits for no man yada, yada. So I figure it's about dang time I go fishing for more than a weekend. Who knows, maybe I'll like it so much I'll retire for good." He sniffed and for the final time asked, "So, Carter, wanna go fishing?"

Yeah, that was the last memorable O'Neillism's he'd spouted at his going away party a month ago at the SGC. He'd only told Teal'c, Daniel and me that before he assumed his new post in Washington he would take a ninety day leave. However two recent events remained emotionally paramount for me and this latest development was just lousy timing. First dad had died and secondly I had broken off my engagement with Pete. Not a good year for this eternal optimist. Through it all, one man had been by my side, always. And even though we'd taken it out of the room, I had retreated to my former insecurities and pulled away. In retrospect he knew that and had decided to use shock treatment on this dense scientist. Does it say _Dense_ on my forehead? If not, it should.

Unfortunately, I'd forgotten Jack's ten-second delayed response rule. "_Either crap or get off the pot, Carter."_ I did neither. Just stood there like an idiot over analyzing what he'd just asked me in his black and white way.

"Ah, yes . . ." His craggy handsome features darkened. "Why am I not surprised? Well, then," he directed traffic with his elegant hands and then looked longingly into my gaze. "You have a good life, Samantha Carter, and I mean that, always."

"Yeah sure yabetcha," was all I could squeak past my parched lips as he strolled out of the party and out of my life. Any other brilliant woman would have gone after him. Not me. Did I mention I'm dense?

True to his word Jack went fishing.

One month later:

So there I sat in my fancy office at my desk in Area 51 pondering spinsterhood. I'd yet to get a place of my own. Something held me back. As for Jack, there'd been no communication between us, other than my written _thank you_ letter, when I learned that he'd paid the funeral expenses not covered by the military or dad's insurance. The fact he knew I could afford to pay the difference wasn't lost on me. It was a heart gesture, simple as that. Another matter that helped me come to terms with _us_ was when I read the mind-blowing recommendation he'd attached to my requested and then approved transfer to Area 51. I wept. The next day I drove past his empty house and saw the _for sale_ sign. My gut ached so bad I went home and threw up. Weird, it didn't bother me to sell my house and move to Nevada, but I'd always assumed even if he worked in D.C., Jack's would return to the Springs whenever possible. Now I knew differently, his roots would always be Minnesota.

So here I am a month later pondering the how, why, and what ifs that have brought me to this backwoods, Minnesota gravel road—this major crossroad of my life. Like Jack would say, "You think too much, Carter."

God only knows, eight years ago neither of us were looking to fall in love. I had been in emotional recovery from breaking off a warped engagement to control freak Jonas Hanson, while Jack still dealt with his divorce from Sara. Although, we'd since talked and agreed that we lost our hearts the first day we met, it didn't hit me like a blinding white revelation. My heart didn't do back-flips when I saw him in the briefing room. Well, maybe there was an elevation of my blood pressure. And despite the immediate, physical chemistry neither of us broke into cold sweats when serious blue eyes clashed with irreverent brown ones. It just felt right and natural. Love at first sight, you know. Just like my parents.

And even when he said, "Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman. I like women," with that flirtatious lisp and brow waggle, I didn't think him an arrogant, self-centered, male chauvinist pig. Nope. Not at all. That was just one aspect of this simple in your face, honest flyboy whom I like, love, and who sometimes pisses me off.

Despite the obvious irritation that centered from his, "I've just got a little problem with scientists," remark, everything about our relationship flowed natural and comfortable, as if we'd always been apart of one another. What unnerved me most, was that I could ever feel such intimacy with any man. This was the type of relationship my parents had had and the hope to ever find such passionate love scared me to death. Nonetheless, I knew without doubt when we walked side-by-side up the Stargate ramp that Colonel Jack O'Neill had snared my heart. The only issue was I'd no idea how he felt about me.

Excited beyond words I babbled nervously, "You know, you really will like me when you get to know me." I must have sounded like a dork.

To which he snorted, "Oh, I adore you already, Captain."

Yeah, that's when I knew it wasn't just my foolish heart and sexually fired endorphins messing with my analytical left brain. This was no school girl crush. I'd determined within hours after meeting Colonel Jack O'Neill, we already cared more than we should for each other. More importantly no matter how much we'd tried to ignore or deny it, ours was a love that would endure every obstacle known to man, Goa'uld, Asgard, Tok'ra, Ori and death.

Love isn't that simple? Or is it.

He loves me.

I love him.

There is no logical explanation for how two opposite intergalactic orbiting bodies came together in one silent, explosive collision of the hearts eight years back. Believe it or not I don't care. Far better nor does he.

"It's not about the fish, Carter, it's about the fishing." Yeah.

That's when I cursed myself for falling in love with my CO and wished we weren't by the book Air Force officers. Still the fact, he respects and upholds the regulations are another reason I love him. General Jack O'Neill is honorable, even concerning affairs of the heart, his heart. He always does the right thing. He always will. That's why he let me go with dignity, no questions asked. Why he's patiently waited for me to discover what my heart already knew. No man will ever love me as unconditionally as he does, even when I've hurt him like hell.

I'm not sure why I parked my Mustang at the top of the knoll and walked the dusty driveway to his place. Not as if he hadn't sensed my arrival. Bare-legged and in sandals, the mid-afternoon's sun warmed my bare back. I wished I had a tan but being freckled and fair complexioned like my mother, I burn easily. Instead, I chewed my pink glossed lips and wondered if I should have dressed more conservatively than this backless, blue halter-topped sun dress. No, I didn't want any evidence of one Colonel Sam Carter during my unannounced encounter. This was about Jack and Samantha.

When I then spotted smoke rising near the cabin and smelled burning charcoal, a recent bad memory flashed before my eyes. Anxious, I made quick inventory of his manicured property spotting his Ford Pickup Truck, Toyota tractor, backhoe, riding lawn mower, and mud splattered ATV parked in perfect alignment along the driveway. Since my visit here with Daniel and Teal'c last month, it's obvious Jack's serious about erecting a new shed to house his vehicles. An area's been leveled off with gravel, footings in place, and a semi-load of lumber and plywood occupied a portion of the front yard. I didn't see any strange cars and expelled a breath of relief.

Jack didn't look up as I strolled toward him, but continued to tinker on the ancient generator that I'd promised to repair. As I approached he stood and squinted my way into the sun. His hands were jammed into the stressed pockets of worn jeans, an untucked, paint-splattered t-shirt gathered at his waist beneath a faded, green flannel shirt that saw better days. The sleeves rolled haphazardly up his forearms he had grease-stained hands.

Mindful of me, his unruly silver hair stood at attention and the blue shadow of his unshaven beard was a stark contrast against his lean tanned features. His hair's longer and he's got a good month's beard in progress. The contrast of his dark shadowed beard against his wintry hair is astonishingly sexy. Jack's aged like fine wine. I blinked to keep from drooling or jumping his Irish bones. Knowing he has no idea what he does to me, makes me want him more.

"Samantha?" he drawled. _Hey, this is me you're talking to._ His tone matched that of my hallucination on board the Prometheus. He sniffed a breath. His atypical flat-mouth expression said he wasn't surprised to see me, nor wondered why I finally came, just why it took me eight and half years to find my way to his doorstep. To realize that everything he's done since we met, including saving earth a zillion times, he's done for me? He loves me!

"Jack." His name falling off my lips sounded more right than ever. I hedged a smile and watched his brown eyes dilate as he dragged his gaze over me, then smiled in what I hoped was manly appreciation.

"Beer?" he gestured to the cabin.

"Sure." My throat was parched, but more from nerves than the heat. I fear it's too late. Fear that Kerry Johnson's going to leap out of the bushes with a bowl of Jell-O, rub it in my face and call me a fool. Thankfully, she doesn't.

Wordless we walked side by side to the cabin. Our arms brushed and a streak of desire fired through me. It'd always been this way, the slightest touch or glance from him whether as my CO or something more, unglued the feminine side of me. Man, I missed his hugs, his comfortable shoulder. Now I prayed it's not too late, that he doesn't sit me down and tell me he's moved on.

When he opened the door and stepped aside for me to enter I read his one-dimensional thoughts. He thinks I'm the densest astrophysicist in the universe. He's right. But the officer and gentleman that he is will not say so, at least not now.

"So." He shut the door and took a step toward me, scratching his lower back.

"So." I flapped my fists against my sides in a nervous gesture he knew well. His strong hands skimmed the Goosebumps of my arms and he lifted my hands and held them possessively, drawing me close. My peripheral vision faded. Nothing else existed but us. Jack gazed into my eyes and I became aware of how good he smelt, even sweaty. I swore my heart would explode out of my chest.

"Um, there's a good reason I came here today, Jack."

"Oh." He winced.

"You can't sell your house!" I blurted and silently cursed my stupid remark.

"Ah, I'm moving to D.C., you're moving to Nevada. Other than to see Cassandra, Daniel and T, not a whole lot of reasons to keep two places, ya think?"

He's such a strategist. I should have seen this coming.

"Well, the Springs is a good place to live." I ventured, "I like the people, the climate, thought you did too."

"I do." He cocked his silver head, purposely not speaking. He's not making this easy.

"It has great schools, parks, recreation." I cleared the frog in my throat.

"For?" He held me captive with those penetrating eyes and I feared I was being too forward, too assuming.

"Um, to raise a family." I am about to die on the spot. "That's if . . . um, two people who love each other were inclined to marry and have children." His dark brows danced into his hairline, his lips twitched. "See, someone once told me there are people on base that have families—"

"About dang time." His dimples tucked deep alongside his firm mouth. His intoxicating breath warmed my face. I inhaled chocolate cake and absurd as it sounds, I knew he'd taste like cake and red Jell-O. Some things just never change. Besides he hates blue.

"Time is relevant." I nervously exhaled. For the first time in eons I am alone with the man I love. _Wow! Now what?_

"Know this astrophysicist who says that way too much." He arched his right brow. "Nervous?"

"Oh, yeah." I blushed as he slipped a curl behind my ear and a shiver went directly to my nether regions. To my dismay he let go and stepped back. My arms fell to my sides. I felt empty without his warm comfortable touch.

"Yes. Well. Let's start over, huh?" He held out his soiled hand. "I'm Jonathon J. O'Neill, I go by Jack." His dimples tucked deeper with a mischievous smile. "And you are?"

I stifled a giggle and accepted his firm hand shake. "Hi, Jack, I'm Samantha Jean Carter, who's been insanely in love with you since the first day we met."

"Wow! Same here, Samantha." He smirked and then turned serious with his clumsy self-effacing sweetness that always won my heart. "So, um, I'm wondering if perhaps, maybe we, you and I," his hands directed traffic. "I mean we should err um . . .," A hand swept through his gray hair and he blew out his mouth. "After all these years, before we're too old to have those kids, we do the right thing." I grinned with a nod of encouragement and his clammy hands gripped mine. "What I'm trying to say here, Carter, is will ya—"

"Yes, Jack, I'll marry you!"

His hold tightened and his gorgeous mouth slackened . . . a lot. Nice to know I can still make him speechless.

"Nah? For real?" He gawked.

"Yes!"

"Geez, Carter. I've been rehearsing that question for years and . . ." He grimaced. "When you said yes to Shanahan, I thought I'd lost you."

"I'm sorry." I rubbed a spot of grease from his leathered cheek. "I didn't want to say yes to Pete, I'd wanted you to stop me. . . ." I sighed and shut my eyes.

"And I was a fool not to. I thought he made you happy."

"Temporally, not like you always have."

He bent forward and kissed my tears away. I melted into his long strong arms.

Through misting eyes I gazed up and then he said what I'd longed to hear. "I love you, Sam, always have. And with God as my witness I would not have let you marry him."

"What?" I gawked.

"Sam, weeks before Dad died I submitted a retirement form and then the President offered me George's Washington post. As for Kerry, well the afternoon you came to see me, I'd intended to break up with her. She just beat me to the punch."

"Oh, Jack!"

"Sorry, but I couldn't have stayed on at the SGC seeing you everyday, knowing you'd married another man. But then the darn Replicator attack, Daniel going Ancient again and Dad/Selmak dying, there wasn't a good time. But I figured when I held you in the infirmary's observation booth we'd finally taken it out of the room. And all the time we spent together after that . . . But then, when you didn't answer my fishing request, I lost my cool and well . . . I should have given you more time. I'm sorry."

"And I should have answered. But I was scared."

"Of what for crying out loud?" His eyes rounded.

"This." I gestured around us. "Of finally having what makes me happy and losing it, losing you."

"Samantha, you can't lose what was never lost." He trailed a hand through my short hair and said softly, "I've always been here for you and I'm not going anywhere you don't want to go."

"Oh, _Jack_." I emphasized as my fingers stroked his longer ones. "I love you, Jack O'Neill, with two l's."

He looked at me with a smile that brightened his chocolate brown eyes. "And I love you, Samantha Carter." To my shock, he reached into his back pocket, pulled out a ring box, opened it and presented the ring to me. I nodded and he took my left hand and slipped a brilliant blue diamond ring onto my empty finger. "So for crying out loud, marry me, wilya? We can fly to Vegas tonight and—"

Dumbfounded, tears burning my eyes, I squeaked out a, "Yeah sure yabetcha!"

"Geez, woman, will I ever have the last word with you?"

"Sorry."

"Nah, you're not. And I wouldn't want you any other way." Once again serious blue eyes meet irreverent brown. I didn't hide my tears and swore he was close to crying too.

"So, have I mentioned how hot you look in that sexy skimpy dress?" He eyed me up in a way I'd only dreamt of seeing.

"No."

"You're hot, Carter!"

"Why, sir, are you flirting with me?"

"Yep." Jack did a comical quick glance each way.

"What?" I found myself looking around the cabin as if expecting General Hammond to step out and shake his bald head at us.

"Oh, just checking this is for real. You—me, alone—twenty miles from the nearest town." He gestured between us.

"We're alone, Jack." I assured him. "No more saving the world and no more regulations," I countered.

"No more surveillance cameras," he drawled with that sexy lisp against my cheek.

"No more, Colonel or ma'am." I pushed him boldly against the cabin wall, watching his jaw drop open.

"No more, General or sir." His arms snaked around my waist and he yanked me fast against his hard lean body. I realized there's no way this man can ever disappoint or surprise me and that's quite all right. I love a safe bet.

"But, no more late nights babysitting me in the lab." I nibbled his bristled jaw. "I did enjoy those."

"Oh, I don't know, as the head of Home World Security, it's amazing what I can get away with." He grinned. "Just don't know how much work ya'll get done being Mrs. O'Neill." His hands roamed where they should and my breath hitched.

"Hopefully none." I added.

"Excellent!" He winked. "So, Carter, wanna go fishing?"

"About dang time," I said against his delicious wet lips. Yep, as usual, I was right. Jack O'Neill tasted like chocolate cake and—Holy Hannah—Blue Jell-O!?

The Beginning. . .


End file.
